


What Grown Folks Do...

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Arcades, Chance the Rapper - Freeform, Chance the Rapper's Juke Jam, Childhood Bickering, F/M, Flirting, Kid Fic, Misty is tired of his shit, Nostalgia, Rollerskating, Sam Wilson in the WORST, Samtober, Seventies and Eighties Fashion Trends, Until she isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-09 16:30:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12280254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: ‘...we used to roll at the rink. I used to talk way too much, you used to know everything. You couldn’t stand me, I couldn’t stand you.’Zee’s Skate-O-Rama has been a staple of Harlem since the 60s. Wooden floors, a disco ball, carpeted playroom with an original Ms. Pacman, and a snack bar. Sam remembers spending way too much time here on the weekends.





	1. Skee Ball and Mountain Dew

**Author's Note:**

> It took a little trouble to arrive here, but this is my piece for Samtober, posted in two chapters because I'm tired and need to go to bed...
> 
> This accompanies a sketch that I put out on Tumblr for the Sam Wilson Birthday Bang.
> 
> http://downwarddnaspiral.tumblr.com/post/165694272866/this-is-my-contribution-to-the-sam-wilson-birthday

Sam loosened the nut on the bottom of his blue sneaker skates, testing the wheels with a flick of his finger. The ball bearings hissed as they spun; he grinned with anticipation and tucked the small wrench that his dad picked up at the specialty skate shop into his jeans pocket. Sam tucked his windbreaker into the tiny locker cubby and turned the stiff, tiny orange key, hearing his momma’s voice in his head telling him she wasn’t replacing his jacket or his other belongings again if he let them get taken.

He began the slow, thudding glide across the carpet in his skates, glancing around the arcade for his partners in crime. He sidled up beside James at the Ms. Pac-Man game, whose eyes were round as walnuts as he slapped the button and practically strangled the joystick. Danny babysat their shared cup of tokens; when they pooled their funds, they shared their skee ball winnings, too. Sam and James bumped elbows as James outran the blue ghost but missed the power pellet on the upper left turn.

“Shoot, shootshootshoot!” he grunted as he slapped the dash. The game mocked him with its _whehn-whehn-whehn-whehn-whomp-whomp_ as Ms. Pac-Man went belly-up. “Aw, man!”

“Let’s go free throw,” Danny nagged. “I wanna kick your butt at it again.”

“Um, excuse you? Who kicked whose butt?” James gave him the side-eye, reminding Sam of his older sister.

“This game sucks, anyway,” Danny told him.

“Because _you_ suck,” James challenged.

“Didn’t you just lose?” Sam wondered

“Man, shut up?!”

“Let’s go skate,” Sam told them. “Before they start the figure skating lessons and couples skate.”

“Man, I _hate_ couples skate,” James agreed. Danny dumped the rest of the tokens into his deep jeans pockets, and they ambled up to the edge of the rink. Skaters whizzed by the entryway, and they merged with the crowd, skating in and out of the slower movers just to annoy. JT from Kool and the Gang told them to celebrate good times as they rounded the floor. The air conditioning was turned up high enough to give Sam a chill over his bare arms, but by their third time around the rink, he felt himself heat up, feeling the slight breeze. Danny showed off, doing a near-perfect cannonball. Sam tried that once and fell on his ass. Once was enough. 

They began to play a round of tag with each other, and managed to tag each other a handful of times before one of the rink attendants hustled out to tell them to stop, threatening them with time in the penalty box below the DJ booth. Sam and James grinned at each other while Danny tapped out.

“I want a Mountain Dew.”

“Hey, get me one, too!” James called out with his hands cupped around his mouth.

“You owe me!” Danny promised as he stood in the growing line at the snack bar. Danny reached into his pocket and grabbed his small, black picture day comb and flicked back his hairs feathered waves.  In front of Danny, Sam noticed Colleen, the girl in first recess who had a crush on him. Sam elbowed James as he skated by him, nodding across the rink. James snickered. 

“His girlfriend’s keeping an eye on him.”

Colleen hadn’t grown into her smile yet; braces lined her teeth, and she compensated for them with garish green eye shadow and braided ribbon barrettes. If Sam had to admit it, she was almost _cute_.

_Almost_.

They rounded the rink again, and they noticed Danny trying to pretend that she wasn’t glancing over her shoulder at him where they stood in line. Yet, Sam watched him flick the comb through his hair again. Sam chortled to himself at the way Danny shoved his hands into his pockets and quickly looked away when Colleen hazarded a look behind her. They moved up in line, and Sam caught Danny’s eye. He made kissy faces at Danny just to mess with him, earning himself a dirty look.

_You guys suck_ Danny mouthed at them, but he clammed up when Colleen peeked at him again as they turned the corner through the velvet ropes that hemmed in the line of customers. There were still seven kids in front of them, and Danny kept sighing and rolling his eyes. 

She _was_ kinda cute, Sam reasoned. There were worse people he could be stuck behind, like Emma, who was a class ahead of them and who drowned herself in Love’s Baby Soft every morning. Now _that_ girl, Sam didn’t want to get stuck with on a long bus ride. Colleen was at least nice; she was decent on the kickball field and was the best speller in his class.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw a flash of hot pink. He watched Carol and Misty, in strategically matching outfits, making their cautious way onto the ring. Carol’s glide was a little shaky as she made it out onto the rink, but she stared over her shoulder at Misty, who was clinging to the rink rails for dear life, posture punched as she fought to get her footing. 

Sam couldn’t pass up an opportunity when he saw one. “Watch this,” he told James. Sam skated full-speed behind her, gathering up a breeze in his wake. He came within a hairsbreadth of Misty and yelled “WATCH OUT, DON’T FALL!” and watched her nearly jump a mile. She lost her purchase on the railing and glared after him.

“You DIPSHIT!” she cried out. The rink attendant caught up to Sam, tapping his shoulder.

“That’s not safe. Don’t make me warn you again.”

“Sorry. No, ma’am.” Sam’s mother would snatch him _bald-headed_ for that little trick, but she did teach him manners. The attendant skated off, watching him with her Sunday-best “You’re not fooling anybody” look. But Sam felt a frisson of excitement for getting away with his mischief one more time. Which, when he thought about it, meant he had _one more chance_ to get Misty’s goat before he ended up being taken off the floor. 

Carol had other ideas. She abandoned Misty briefly, just long enough to catch up to him and scold Sam and James both. “That was MEAN,” she informed them. “She’s trying to skate, and you’re being a couple of dickweeds!”

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” James teased.

“She just said DICKWEED!” Sam added. Carol looked like she didn’t have time for Sam Wilson or any of his mess.

“You can kiss off! Leave her alone!” She skated back somewhat less awkwardly to Misty, who was still inching along the railing, but she and Carol muttered between them like a couple of magpies, shooting both boys dirty looks. Carol looped arms through Misty’s and helped her to right her posture, and they both scooched along on short, choppy strides. Both girls wore pink, horizontal striped jerseys with three-quarter length sleeves and Jordache jeans. Carol’s hair was pulled back into a banana clip; Misty wore her hair in a side ponytail bound by a pink scrunchie. Sam never understood why girls dressed alike; he remembered six of the girls from intramural soccer all showed up in white shirts with black polka dots. It just seemed _weird_. What was the point?

Sam didn’t buzz Misty again, but he couldn’t resist a little razzing, if only to get a closer look at her. Misty’s lips shone with gloss of some kind; Sam wondered if it was one of those flavored Lip Smackers. Sarah caught him getting into hers at home, just because he liked the taste. She was gangly and just beginning to develop hips. Sam saw the barest outline of a bra strap through the thin fabric of her shirt. Sam passed them again, shaking his butt at her and flexing a muscle. She just tsked at him, but Carol giggled. James spun around and skated backwards, scissoring his feet, but by the time he gained any momentum, the DJ called out the moment they’d all been dreading.

“All right, boys and girls! It’s time for our Couples Skate! Grab that special someone! Couples only! Partner up, everybody!” The lights went down low, and the disco ball threw prisms over the floor. They danced over Misty’s dark, smooth skin, and Sam stared at her, rapt. But both girls began to head to the far exit of the rink. Sam felt the lightbulb go on in his head as James skated off to get his Mountain Dew. Carol tried to tug Misty with her off the rink, but Sam skated up in fast strides, zooming in and copying James’ trick, skating backwards as he grabbed Misty’s hand and neatly yanked her out of Carol’s grasp. Misty let out a little scream as Sam pulled her along, just missing the glance of the attendant. Sam towed Misty along, skating backwards and catching her other hand. She looked like she wanted to smack him, but she clung to his hands for dear life.

“Are you CRAZY?!”

“You wanted to know how to skate,” he told her. “C’mon. Show me your stuff!”

“This wasn’t how, you… oh, my God, don’t go so fast!” He pulled her along, forcing to coast along with him, and her knees were bent and locked.

“Move your feet,” he coaxed.

“I… I can’t!” She looked annoyed as hell, but her feet were starting to cooperate a little. Sam slowed down - it _was_ DeBarge playing, after all, telling them all this love was just waiting for you - and finally let go of one of her hands, swerving up beside her. 

“You’re getting it.”

“No, I’m not!”

“You are,” he argued. 

“You’re a jerk! You almost made me fall.” And she looked like she had some pretty specific opinions on the subject.

“But you didn’t,” he pointed out.

“No thanks to _you!_ ”

“But you’re skating, right?”

“I was skating with my friend!”

“If you call that ‘skating’,” Sam mentioned. He smirked at her glare and the way she rolled her eyes.

But she stuck with him, slowly getting the hang of the rink’s brown rental skates with the ugly orange wheels and stoppers, with the fraying, mummified brown laces that snapped if you tugged them too hard. “Try this,” he suggested as he scissored his feet.

“That’s weird, how do you do that?”

“Just in and out. S’not hard.” He was leaning in toward her so he wouldn’t have to shout so loud over the music.

Her hand was cool and soft. Sam felt a weird little flutter in his stomach. He smelled her hair pomade and a hint of root beer. It _was_ a Lip Smacker. Sam caught sight of Carol and James off to the side, talking smack with each other. James tried to take one of Carol’s nachos, but she feinted away with it, earning his disappointed look. Danny was back at the Ms. Pac-Man game while Colleen hovered nearby, chewing on a pack of Mambo. She wandered away after he continued to ignore her, but she glanced up at him once in a while, wishing.

She tried scissoring her feet, but her feet pigeon-toed too much, and she tripped over her own feet. Sam caught her by the arm and almost went down himself, and it was jarring, but she didn’t weigh much, and he didn’t have a hard time steadying her.

“I’ve had enough,” she told him.

“The song’s not done yet,” he argued.

“Carol needs me,” she told him, and she shook her hand free from his and hobbled off, almost taking out two other couples on her way to the exit.

“Fine, then!” he called after her. “Bye, Dorothy Hamill!”

Oh, she was tired of Sam, if that look was anything to go by.

All Sam could think to himself was, _She held my hand_.

*

 

Sam had to finish his sno-cone before the bus ride back to the school; he had to study for his social studies test, take out the trash and set the table once he got home. Danny and James already finished their sodas and were trying to finish one last game of skee ball before it was time to go. Sam had his skates tied together by their laces and looped over his shoulder. Misty and Carol turned in their skates and hurried back to their lockers in their stocking feet, shooting him huffy looks as they went by. Sam wiggled his eyebrows at Misty, but she wasn’t having it.

They rushed outside, leaving the cloying smell of popcorn grease and corn dogs behind them. The air was almost too cold for Sam’s thin windbreaker, and he was still sweating under it from skating for so long. The boys rushed the bus, cutting in front of the girls and heading straight to the back of the bus, hogging those seats. Skates were tucked away along with backpacks and totes as the bus driver did a head count. 

Sam spied Misty and Carol going through a sticker album that Carol pulled out of her backpack; Misty leaned down and smelled a scratch-and-sniff strawberry. Colleen and her friend Harmony tried on Avon lipstick samples from tiny white tubes. Sam wondered why they didn’t just use Misty’s Lip Smacker.

It… just worked so well.


	2. Til I Found Out All the Shawty's with Cooties Was Cute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The same disco ball spun over the floor boards, making the same beat-up, aging interior look magical after dark. Misty watched the skaters make their way around the rink like carousel horses from her perch behind the rental counter. 
> 
> Where had Wilson gotten off to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this pebble of a story won’t even cause a ripple in the fandom’s pond. But, fuck it. Why not?

[](https://imgur.com/kvdfQPL) 

Carol and Colleen hunched against the edge of the rental counter from the outside, grinning at Misty while she re-shelved the battered returns, unknotting laces as she went. “What time do you get off tonight again?” Carol pressed. She handed Misty a stick of Wrigley’s spearmint, which Misty tucked into her pocket for later. Management frowned on chewing gum while she was working, and Lord knew they found enough of it wadded up under the snack bar tables and around the base of the phone booth. Customers could be nasty. Misty started her shift at one o’clock; here it was, eight PM, and the DJ was playing J. Geils Band’ “Freeze Frame” for the third time. Misty was ready to wave the white flag.

“Ten. Harmony’s sick, so I have to help close tonight.”

Colleen pulled a face, wrinkling her  nose. “That sucks.”

“Maybe you can still come over tonight,” Carol offered. “I can tell my mom you’re planning to show up later than everyone else.”

“Girl, I don’t wanna knock on your door that late. Your folks will be all in their jammies by the time I show up.”

“It’s no big deal. Just come.”

“We rented Footloose. And we’ve got microwave popcorn. C’mon, Misty, you _know_ you want to!”

“C’mon!” Colleen whined, bouncing and making her ponytails rattle over her shoulders.

“Nah. I can’t. I’ll come next time.”

“Awwwww!”

“Or we can do something tomorrow.”

“Ghostbusters is playing tomorrow,” Carol suggested, brightening. She reached up and adjusted her ponytail, tightening her scrunchie.

“Ooooooh. Let’s do that, instead. Harmony might want to go. She’s been _dying_ to see that movie.”

Misty hesitated, biting back a sigh. Harmony Young wasn’t high on her list of people she wanted to hang out with, because 1) she was gossipy, 2) she had opinions about Misty’s natural hair that she wished she would keep to herself, and 3) she let on a little while back that she had her eye on one Mr. Samuel Wilson. Colleen gave Misty a measured, knowing look.

“What? You don’t want her to come with us?” she accused.

“You can invite her if you _want_.” Roughly translated? _Girl, NO._

“She’s gonna ask later why we didn’t invite her,” Carol reminded them.

Misty huffed. “So, let her ask.” She shrugged and went back to reshelving the skates, tightening the wheels on an older pair and undoing the old laces because the aglets were too torn.

“That’s fine,” Carol conceded. “Hey. There’s Rhodey and Tony.” Then her eyes widened. “Oh, my God. Is that _Logan_? He never comes here!” She elbowed Colleen, hanging onto her arm. “Oh, my God! He’s so _hot_!”

“He’s so _hairy_ ,” Colleen muttered, grimacing while she cracked her gum. “He’s okay, if you _like_ that.”

“Oh, I don’t mind that,” Carol told her.

Misty smirked. “Whatever floats your boat.” They eyeballed the short, stocky senior hovering by the arcade, sucking on a large soda. His jeans were skintight, and the sleeves of his flannel were rolled up over his elbows, revealing a very hairy pair of arms, indeed. His face was square-jawed; he had a widow’s peak and a cleft in his chin. He wasn’t bad, Misty conceded.

But then again, he wasn’t _Sam_.

The same disco ball spun over the floor boards, making the same beat-up, aging interior look magical after dark. Misty watched the skaters make their way around the rink like carousel horses from her perch behind the rental counter. Misty felt a little jaded; it was hard to muster her old enthusiasm about this place now that she _worked_ here. She remembered how the rink rails felt under her hands, feeling the rumble of skates pounding past her while she fought to keep her balance. Remembering a boy who teased her about her lack of balance, before he doubled back and helped her to stay on her feet. 

...that being said, where the heck was Sam, anyway?

As if she read Misty’s thoughts, Colleen asked, “Where’s Sam?”

Misty made a noncommittal “I dunno” noise and turned her back, pretending that the skate that she removed a wad of chewed up Starburst from was the most interesting thing she ever encountered.

Carol and Colleen eyed each other. “Where’s Misty’s man?” Carol teased.

“Where, oh where could he be?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You’d _like_ to know.”

“Carol, just stop!”

“What? You _would_!”

“You _like_ him.”

“So does Harmony,” Carol reminded them. That made Misty turn around and glare daggers. Carol held up her hands. “Sorry. But you know she does.”

Misty tsked. “Ugh… don’t remind me.”

“You’re cuter than she is,” Colleen said by way of consolation.

“You totally are.” Carol nodded emphatically, making her ponytail sway. 

“Uh, excuse me? Young lady, we need to rent some skates? Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Tony wandered up to the counter, folding his arms. He motioned toward Colleen and Carol accusingly. “I believe you’re keeping this employee from doing her job, ladies.”

“Ex _cuse_ me?” Misty folded her arms right back at him and raised her brows.

“Okay, Rhodey? Protect me? She’s about to kick my ass,” Tony told him as he jerked his best friend in front of him like a human shield.

“Hey, I’m not your babysitter or your bodyguard! You’re on your own, buddy!” Rhodey winked at Misty. “Hey, Misty.”

“This guy’s gonna ruin your rep, James.”

“What rep? I haven’t had a rep ever since I _met_ this guy!” Rhodey went and shoved Tony back out in front of him and caught him in a headlock, making him grin.

“I’m great for your rep! What would you do without me?”

“Have some respect for myself.”

“HEY!”

“So, it’s just you guys?” Carol asked. She wiggled her eyebrows at Misty, who went back to cleaning skates, cheeks flaming but ears perked with interest.

“Well, us, and Sam, in a minute, if he ever gets his butt over here,” Rhodey complained. “He said he had to work tonight.” 

Sam worked the afternoon shift at Safeway, but Misty didn’t frequent the store for snack runs to find that out, or anything…

He looked cute in his red apron. And of course, here she was, in her ugly orange staff t-shirt, trapped behind the counter for the night.

Still, the opportunity was there. And at the moment, _Harmony wasn’t_.

*

The rink was packed by the time Sam reached the admission counter. He ended up parking his beat-up Volkswagen Rabbit all the way in the back of the lot. He stowed the loose change that he had in the ash tray inside the console, heeding his mother’s warning that someone would smash his window for it if he left it out in the open. He contemplated wearing his sweatshirt inside, since it would be cold when he came back out, but he didn’t feel like having to stow it, leaving it on a bench to be stolen, or having to stow it in a locker. Sam shrugged and headed in, bare arms and all. 

He shivered, not quite far enough inside not to catch the cold draft from the doorway while he wanted to pay his five bucks. He saw Tony and Rhodes by the counter with Colleen and Carol; Danny had gone to work at a summer camp as a counselor, and he wasn’t due for a weekend off until next week. Colleen mooned over his letters and was downright sickening whenever he came home. One more year, Sam mused, before they all graduated. Danny stopped ignoring Colleen by the middle of freshman year. She was a fixture on his lap at the lunch table. Sam couldn’t resist asking her every now and again, “What do you even _see_ in this guy?” just to see Danny’s indignant look when she shrugged her shoulders.

It was nice to be one half of a pair. 

Sam was still staring at the skate rental counter, waiting for Colleen and Carol to move out of his way, and the admission attendant waited for him impatiently. “Sir? Your change?” She shoved it at him across the counter, and Sam numbly nodded his thanks as he crammed it back into his battered wallet. He let her stamp his hand in the glow-in-the-dark ink after she handed him his ticket for the skate rental, and Sam wandered through the crowd, narrowly missing a girl working on her backward scissoring on the threadbare carpet. The air was heavy with the odors of hot dogs and nacho cheese, making Sam wrinkle his nose after a day of working in the supermarket’s deli. _Ugh, grease…_

Sam felt someone give him a shove, and he grinned at Logan, who was holding court with a gaggle of girls. “What’s up?” He low-fived him and bumped fists. 

“Bout time you got here, Wilson.”

“Hey, I was earning money!”

“I see someone you can spend some of it on,” Logan told him as he flicked his eyes toward the rental counter.

“Man, shut up,” Sam muttered under his breath.

“What? She’s cute.” Logan smirked as the two of them glanced over there again. “Looked like she was checking ya out a second ago, Wilson.”

Yet she looked for all the world like she hadn’t seen Sam, now. 

“I’m gonna go get my skates.”

“Sure. Just the skates.” Logan clapped him on the shoulder and sent him on his way. Sam felt a frisson of embarrassment. Was Sam that obvious?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is incomplete. I ran out of juice. I don't think this was my story to tell, but it was fun to draw the sketch. Happy Samtober, if you celebrated it.


End file.
